


The good, the bad, and the brothel

by clightlee, SwimmingTiger



Category: Star Stable Online, Star Stable Western au
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clightlee/pseuds/clightlee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwimmingTiger/pseuds/SwimmingTiger
Summary: Mr. Kembell, the alleged silver baron, pays Madame Miranda a visitConnected with CLightlee's Wild West AUNo violence or gore- but there are gun mentions. Takes place in a brothel so some naughty language





	The good, the bad, and the brothel

On a quiet day at the brothel... 

A young redhead is perched on the edge of a dusty pink velvet love seat. Her hair was growing out in thick waves around her pale face. She was reading a book on mythology and making notes in a small leather journal on the couch to her right. She was careful not to drip ink onto the velvet, though a few stray drops found their way onto her skirt. This went unnoticed. Thrown on the loveseat next to her was her large mens duster, clearly meant for a person much taller and broader than she, and the way it hung in places one would think she carried all her earthly possessions in the pockets. 

Everything but the cat, she'd tell you if you asked. 

In most towns, the local schoolmarm being this acquainted with the inside of the towns brothel would've caused a stir, but here in New Jorvik it was the norm. The brothel held as many books as the towns library, and they were available to the public. Madame Miranda couldn't abide the uneducated. Neither could Miss Zoe Starr, the schoolmarm. She regularly borrowed books, in hopes of finding new and interesting things to teach her charges. 

Elsewhere, you could hear a piano playing, girls chatting in the dining room, and pots and pans clanging somewhere in the back of the house. Miranda sat at her desk, checking the weeks ledger. A slow week, she shrugged. She was not fussed over this in the least. It would pick up, it always did. Maybe its time for a new girl? She made a list of things needing to be picked up at the general store and looked up at the girls across the hall in the library. Zoe, the schoolmarm, and across from her sat Maggie and Delphine, a quiet willowy girl whose father had recently been in a bit of trouble. She'd come to the Calico asking for a place to board for a bit and Miranda agreed as long as she'd repair some of the lace curtains and doilies. The girl, with her delicate fingers, had a knack for tatting. She was sitting now with Magdalene, a girl with wild dark hair and piercing black eyes, and they were giggling over a Penny Dreadful. Miranda shook her head and looked back at the young school marm.  

"Why Miss Starr, have you had another marriage proposal?" 

The red head, whose mind was somewhere on Mount Olympus, looked around a bit before realizing the Madame was talking to her. 

"Its a right attractive look on you. You keep that up and every young girl in town will be shutting men down left and right." 

At this the two other girls laughed, and Zoe bounced her newly lopped hair in her hand. "You like it? One of the Green Bandanna thugs did me the honors just yesterday! So much easier to care for, and so much cooler in this heat!" She fluttered her eyelashes and crossed her eyes. The girls cackled. 

The merriment was disrupted by pounding feet on the stairway. Leona came running in, and was sweating slightly. 

"He's heading this way..." She panted. "I was reading up on the roof and saw him. Not sure if he's coming here but thought I'd let you know just in case." 

"Thank you darlin'", Miranda cooed. She stood and nodded at Leona, then towards the stairs. Maggie and Del packed up their Penny Dreadfuls and scooted up toward the bedrooms, while Leona ran to warn the girls in the dining room. By the time the doorknob turned, the whole house was silent. Zoe stood stock still, waiting for a nod or some sort of order from Miranda, who lowered her hand in a gesture that meant sit, and be calm. 

The white haired man entered without knocking, a taboo at the Calico. He wore a linen suit in a pale grey- a stupid choice given the dust round here, Miranda mused. His hair was white and fluffed and a grin was plastered on his face. A glance at his eyes would reveal that it was fake. He wore no hat, and hadn't a speck of road grit on him. It was well known that Rutherford Kembell didn't ride and in fact didn't like horses. It wouldn't surprise Miranda one bit if he rode into town in a wagon pulled by his lackeys. 

Miranda slid back around the desk and sat, quietly unfastening the secret drawer just over her lap. Though she never stooped so low to scowl at someone, the schoolmarm noticed this was the closest she'd ever seen to one on the Madames face. She tried to turn back to her mythology, but couldn't help but to cock an ear and see what the deal was between Miranda and the stranger. 

"What do you want,  _Kembell_?"

At this the schoolmarm openly stared, as she had never seen nor heard this colder side of the Madame. Normally she was overtly hospitable, at her best, and cautiously solicitous when a stranger aroused suspicion. But even then there was a bit of honey in her voice. Now she gave off polar chills. The schoolmarm shivered. She tried to focus on the paragraph that she'd reread five times since the man walked in. 

"Well greetings and salutations to you too, missus." The man, Kembell, looked around at the parlour. "Busy day for whorin'?"

"What do you _want,_ Kembell?"

Without waiting for an invitation or greeting, the man smiled and sat in the velvet armchair in the corner of the room, facing the desk. He dusted off the fabric first, though it clearly wasn't necessary. Miranda sighed as the man made a show of making himself comfortable. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned on the armrest. Before addressing the madame, he took a long look back at the schoolmarm, who had hastily turned back to her note-taking. 

"I'm only gonna ask you one more time before I have Cookie toss you.."

"Sake's alive. Where did you pluck her from? Reckon she's pure as the driven snow..." He licked his parched lips. "But then again, judging by the look she just gave, I'd say it's likely shes more poisonous than a rattlesnake." He straightened his tie. "Could always go for a piece of strawberry tart though.. no matter how tart."

The schoolmarm was aghast, her face caught halfway between shock and a glare, and in the middle of reaching for her knife. Miranda was faster, and when Kembell turned around there was a pistol on the desk, aimed right at him. 

 The schoolmarm gathered her books and coat, hiding the knife underneath just in case. "Unless you need me for anything, I'll take my leave now, Miss Miranda. I thank you kindly for your hospitality. And you..." She jutted her chin toward Kembell. "I'd spit on you but I reckon its a waste of perfectly good spit. And rattlesnakes are _venomous_ , not poison, you ignorant sack of shit."  She stared him down as his eyes widened and he made a great pretense of being offended. 

Miranda waved her off, never taking her eyes from the uninvited guest. She did glance out the window to make sure none of his usual men were waiting outside. He came alone today. She could handle him. She leaned forward, sliding the Deringer slightly so that it was aimed at his heart. She raised an eyebrow rather than repeat her question. 

"There's no need for that. I'm just hear to collect some property."

"There's nothing that belongs to you here." Miranda placed her head in her hand and spun the small pistol on her desk. 

"Oh but there is. You have a girl here... Ana."

"Oh for gods sake we've had three Anna's here. All long since moved on by now." 

"She came this way about three weeks ago. Folks said she came to you. Her husband went down into a mine with some equipment that belonged to me. Never came back up. His next of kin is responsible for that equipment." 

"Did you take lessons in management from the Widow Drake? Did she trade you pointers in exchange for your soul? Or..." She leaned closer. "Did the devil ride on up in his fiery chariot to whisper in your ear all about how to ruin an enterprise into the ground and drag all of your employees with you? How _do_ you manage to stay afloat what with losing men left and right?'"

"Why must you be so hateful?" He pouted. "I'm the only decent businessman left round these parts." Kembell said, his phony grin starting to fade a bit. 

"Says the man who borrowed fifty dollars for an endeavor that has yet to turn a profit."

"Well that..."

"To the woman who lent it to him."

"I'll just be collecting Ana now, and be off." Kembell coughed.

"What was the equipment worth?"

"What?"

"This equipment a man plunged to his death with?"

"It was close to fifty, in addition to what could be about two hundred pounds of silver." Kembell smiled, under the assumption that Miranda would pay for him to leave everyone be. It was how he usually conducted business. 

"Rutherford Kembell. If you expect me to believe that the husband of Ana Northwell, who probably weighed ninety pounds while soaking wet, was able to haul even a hundred pounds of silver, than you must think I'm stupider than you look." Underneath the desk, she pressed a pedal, much like the pedal of a sewing machine. In some far off upper room a bell sounded, almost imperceptible to the inhabitants of the front office. Miranda glanced into the library, catching site of a book shelf sliding open to reveal three of her girls sneaking though, and allowed herself a curt smile as she continued. "Now, if you don't mind I have better things to do today than to look at your face and breath the same air as you. And don't let the door hit you where the good lord saw fit to split you."

Kembell stood and stalked towards the desk, suddenly fearless. "Now see here, trollop. I'm taking Ana and neither you nor your little toy pistol can scare me out of that. In fact I..." 

Behind him, there was a click as a gun was cocked. Then another. Then another. He turned to see Delphine, Magdalene, and June standing in shifts and bloomers and aiming an assortment of firearms in his general direction. Miranda gathered her royal blue skirt and swept gracefully around behind the desk, and the girls respectfully lowered their guns as she passed. The madame opened the door and stood aside while the girls took aim once again. 

"We are finished. I don't expect you'll need to be paying us anymore visits. You or any of your yellow bellied cronies. Ever again. Last time you were here one of my girls got hurt, and now this. I will no longer conduct business with you. And I'll find some other way for you to repay me. Blood, sweat, or tears. Anything but a check. Your word is worth less to me than pig shit." She nodded out the door. 

Kembells face was beet red. The girls would later say steam was coming out of his ears. But they couldn't say who was more furious- him or their Madame. And they would argue, in private, over who was more frightening after the encounter. She held the door, staring him down until he finally strutted through. 

"I won't forget this, whore." He spat on the front porch. 

"I don't care." Miranda said quietly, shutting the door and waving the girls back into the safe room. Never could tell who'd retaliate and who would just slink off like a wounded dog. She placed Kembell in the latter category, but didn't want to take chances with her girls. She watched as he stamped back to wherever his carriage was parked.  

Miranda went back to her desk to make a few new notes. 

_Ask Jamie if we can put steel plates in the front walls._

_See if Jamie and Conrad can't fix up some sort of trap for the office... bear trap?_

_..._

_FInd out where Rutherford Kembell runs his "business"_

Delphine came back down the stairs after a moment. "Everything ok ma'am?"

Miranda was still looking out the window, mired in dark thoughts. She knew he had made dozens of enemies, and would eventually piss off the wrong man, or even one of the Lady Outlaws who did their thieving in the vicinity. Some day, someone would put the bastard in an early grave. But until then, he posed a threat to her and her girls and she couldn't be having that.  

"Ma'am?"

"Everything will be fine Del. If he's smart he won't come back. And if he does come back..." She put the Deringer pistol back in the compartment and sealed it shut.  "He'll be sorry."

 


End file.
